


Finding my way back to you

by rhea_of_sunshine



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pen Pals, Regency Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 08:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhea_of_sunshine/pseuds/rhea_of_sunshine
Summary: Set after the events of Season 1x08 of the tv showColin sets off on his travels, but not before conveying his condolences to Penelope on the death of her father. And so begins a correspondence between the two. He writes of his adventures and she remains a steadfast reminder of home.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic - EVER! - and I haven't planned anything. I really do not know where this story is going to go. Just started thinking about what I would like to see happening after the Hastings Ball and fulfilling the Colin-Pen best friends trope which is much more predominant in the Modern AUs. Let me know what you think!  
> PS. There is practically no dialogue at the moment.

There was a flurry of activity outside the Bridgerton House on Grosvenor Square, as Mr. Colin Bridgerton prepared to depart for his trip to Greece. Footmen were carting trunks, a maid ferrying a basket full of sandwiches (for Mr. Bridgerton was always hungry!) and siblings and mama crowding around Colin as they said their goodbyes. Colin's ship was sailing at noon, and he really needed to make haste.

But for all his excitement about beginning his new adventure, there was a cloud over his day. Eloise informed the family not half an hour ago that Lord Featherington had died very suddenly and the future of the Featheringtons was entirely uncertain. Colin knew Penelope must be devastated, and he wished he could offer her some comfort. Their parting the previous night at the Hastings Ball had been rather abrupt, and he sensed that there was more than just family troubles on Penelope's mind. However, there was nothing he could do about it now. He could rely on Eloise and his mother to comfort and support the Featheringtons, and it was best that he be on his way.

Colin reached his ship, the Maria Ana, well in time, and settled into his cabin. It was not small by any means, but still a sizeable departure from the luxurious apartments he was used to. It was comfortable however, and he was satisfied. As he put his things put away, Colin realized that he yet had enough time to send a message of condolence to Penelope back with the footman who accompanied him with the luggage. He tore a sheet from his journal and scribbled a short letter as fast as he could manage (while also taking care to be neat - it was Penelope after all) and instructed his footman to deliver it. Five minutes later, his ship slowly sailed out down the river and towards the continent.

Penelope was alone in her room, knees hugged to her chest, as she processed the events of the last twenty four hours. Indeed, she didn't know how she had even got through it. Her heart ached from the loss of her father, who, for all his absent ways, was Penelope's only ally in the house against her mother and sisters. Penelope wished, not for the first time, that she was a Bridgerton, surrounded by a devoted Mama and several sisters and brothers whose company she actually enjoyed.

The only other supportive person in the house, Marina also left that afternoon with Sir Phillip Crane. Penelope was grateful that her words did not permanently ruin Marina. She had not yet forgiven herself for her actions that night.

Of course, Penelope still had Eloise, and by extension, the goodwill of the Bridgerton family. Eloise was loyal, and Penelope’s fiercest protector. Unbeknownst to her friend, she had also saved Pen, as Lady Whistledown, from being arrested on the orders of the Queen. Eloise would never know just how indebted Penelope was to her.

And then there was Colin. In the tragedy of the last day, Penelope had put thoughts of Colin aside to focus on comforting her mother and sisters, preparing for her father's funeral and seeing Marina off. But now, alone in her room, she could no longer stop her mind from wandering to memories of the ball, when she almost confessed her love to Colin, only to have him declare that he was setting off for Greece! As he said the words, Penelope's stomach knotted up, her jaw clenched, and she could do no more than wish him on his tour and get away from the scene so she could feel her feelings in peace. Penelope was sure she looked very foolish to him. But what did it matter? He was gone, and who knows for how long? Colin Bridgerton would no longer be in her life.

Just then, a maid knocked on her door, and upon entering, handed Penelope a folded message.

"From Mr. Bridgerton, miss," she said, and exited the room.

Penelope, stunned into silence, slowly opened the message, her heart beating twice its normal rate as she wondered why she would receive a message from Colin. Or could it be Benedict? But that would be even more puzzling, she thought. 

Penelope's face flushed as she quickly devoured the message in her hands.

_July 1, 1813_

_Dear Pen,_

_I was truly sorry to learn of your father's passing and I offer my sincerest condolences on your loss. I wish you and your family strength and perseverance through this difficult time. If not for my imminent departure, I would surely have offered my regards in person .. please forgive me._ _I_ _also wish to convey again my apology from last evening. I should have heeded your words, fool that I am, but I vow to not make that mistake again. You are a true friend to me, and know that I am to you as well. If there is but anything that I can do for you, you ought to let me know and I will be happy to oblige. I have noted down the address of my accommodation in Athens at the bottom of the page as I hope you will write back. Fare thee well!_

_Your friend,_

_Colin_

Penelope’s heart swelled as she read the letter, and her smile was wide, but also wistful, as she came to end.

" _Your friend_ ". _Friend_. _Friend_ …

Penelope let out a sigh. Of course, she never expected Colin to suddenly declare his love for her, she knew that would never happen. Nevertheless, his words held great meaning. Colin trusted her - Penelope - and thought her a dear friend of _his_ , not just Eloise's playmate. More than that, he wished to continue their correspondence on his travels. Penelope smiled as she realized how comforting it was to have his letter in her hands, his words written only to her. It was very precious indeed. She would certainly write back, how could she not?

_July 3, 1813_

_Dear Colin,_

_I was so pleased to receive your letter. I do mourn for dear Father, however it is not lost on me that his actions have ruined our family. I do not know what the future holds for us, but knowing I have friends like you make these hardships easier to bear. As the season is over, and my family and I are still in mourning, we will be mostly confined to the house. I am only able to visit with Eloise now and then. You, on the other hand - the world is your oyster, and I confess I am envious of your position. I would love to see the world someday, but in the meantime, will you share your travels with me so I might take some vicarious pleasure out of it? Reading about faraway places and people would be a welcome escape from the trials at home._

_Yours affectionately,_

_Pen_


	2. Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no dialogue here...sorry!

Colin, true to his word, wrote to Penelope steadily over the next few months, sharing stories, sights and reflections of his travels. He told her of the fellow travelers he met and spontaneously joined on their travel for several days; of aimlessly exploring villages and towns; of the boats he sailed into secret coves; of diving into turquoise waters and feeling the heat of the sun on his bare back. He described the tastes and textures of the food and wine, and observed that it was quite curious that despite his excesses, the food and wine of the Mediterranean never made him heavy or lethargic. He didn't know if it was the sun or the soil or the air that caused this magic, but he would certainly take advantage of it as much as he could.

Penelope, for her part, wrote to him mostly about the ton, sharing gossip and humorous anecdotes about her family and Eloise. However, she also shared news in September that her distant relative, a cousin she had never met, had inherited the Featherington estate. As he was apparently in India, it took months to find him, but he would be returning to England soon. The fate of the Featheringtons would be up to him, and she could only hope that Mr. Martindale (for that was his name) was a generous and noble man. Her words angered Colin, as he thought about the possibility, nay, a probability, that some stranger would turn Penelope and her family out of their own home. He knew very well of course the laws of primogeniture, but it was the first time he had cause to think of the injustice of it, and all because the Featheringtons never birthed a son. When his anger dissipated, it was replaced with a sadness, an inadequacy in himself, for he had no words of comfort that would be useful to her. When he finally replied to her letter, he only reiterated her own wish that Mr. Martindale was be an honourable man.

In between his correspondence duties, Colin was truly enjoying his tour. He had never been so unencumbered before and he threw himself into every experience. The rules of society in London were so restrictive, and here Colin was free to do exactly as he pleased without attracting whispers and scandal. Colin also came to realize that his heart and mind were quite free of Marina, and he suspected that she had not truly occupied it in the first place. But he would not soon offer himself to another woman. A wariness around his heart had entered and Colin knew it meant that he had lost his innocence. He would never make a mistake like Marina ever again.

However, that did not mean he needed to avoid the pleasures of women altogether. Colin took Anthony's advice, and when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a beautiful woman, he took it. And the opportunity presented itself quite often, it should be noted. Colin's charm translated to other languages quite easily, and while he was nowhere near to becoming a rake, he managed to gain sufficient experience in the art of seduction. He did not of course share these stories with Penelope or his mother and sisters. Only his elder brothers received hints of his more mature activities.

* * *

_October 18, 1813_

_Dear Colin,_

_How are you faring brother? You hardly share any word of your welfare with us, and I know Mother is constantly worried for you. Worse, she has decided to focus all her attentions on me while you are away. I am to become the perfect debutante by next season, a fantasy if you ask me! I long to be in your place, exploring the world on my own terms. I tell you, Penelope and I are the only women in the ton who spend any time at all thinking about things apart from marriage. Even the men are pathetic, taken in by swoons and smiles and having no regard for what a woman says. Brother, I beg you not to marry a daft woman. I would not be able to bear it!_

_I am quite worried for Pen these days. She does not ever admit it, but things continue to be difficult at her home. Lady Featherington has started to pawn off valuables from their estate, anything that Mr. Martindale won’t notice atleast. She has also sold most of their clothes and jewellery. Penelope confessed to these transactions when she came to tea yesterday, when I stupidly asked why she was wearing the same dress as the week before. She was very dignified about it, and said her only frustration was that her mother only saved her yellow dresses – You know how Pen despises the colour! Luckily, Lady Whistledown hasn’t gotten wind of the Featherington’s situation as yet, I’m sure she would not let them live it down if she did. I would love to loan Pen the money to buy whatever she wishes, and I asked Mama as well, but she rightly pointed out that Pen would never accept such an offer. We would only make her feel pitiful, which I certainly am not want to do. I just wish I knew how to ease her troubles in some small way._

_Now, pray tell how your tour of the island of Crete was? Pen mentioned that you were to go there last month. Did you visit the Palace of Knossos and find the spot Theseus slayed the Minotaur? I expect a full report from you soon. In the meantime, take care brother._

_Yours,_

_El_

As he read Eloise’s latest letter, Colin’s face altered from an indulgent smile and a smirk at his sister’s description of the ton, to worry and concern when he reached her words about the Featheringtons. Surely, things were not so dire? A pit grew in his stomach, as he imagined Penelope quietly suffering the indignities of her life, on top of the insults he knew her mother and sisters sent her way. Yet, she herself was uncorrupted, having always remained kind and generous to everyone around her. Colin suddenly realized how much love she exuded, without any expectation of it being reciprocated, and just how strong that proved her to be. It warmed his heart to think of it. What he did not realize in that moment, unfortunately, was how much of her love was reserved for him.

Eloise’s news was worrying enough that it prompted Colin to write to Anthony, requesting him to watch over the Featheringtons, discreetly of course, and find out what he could about Mr. Martinsdale and his plans. Anthony had no love for the Featheringtons, especially after the Marina debacle, but Colin knew he would do as he asked.

* * *

Colin returned to his inn in Valletta, tired from a long day hiking up the bay. He went to his host, requesting his supper be sent to his rooms, when he was handed an envelope, just arrived from England. Colin grinned upon immediately recognizing Penelope’s elegant cursive, and decided to wait to enjoy its contents in private, with a glass of wine probably. 

_October 31, 1813_

_Dear Colin,_

_I hope this letter finds you safe and well. Your last letter describing your tour through Cypress and Malta was absolutely fascinating. I had no idea the influence of the East extended so thoroughly in these countries… and the food you have described eating surely made my mouth water. You have a real talent for descriptive writing, did you know that? I truly feel like I am by your side, smelling the salt in the air, the heat of the sun on my face._

_I expect you will soon be departing for Turkey, or have you settled on Morocco instead? As I am currently shivering in the London winter, I hope you opt for the warmer option of the two and get some sun for the both of us._

_In other news, Lady Whistledown reported yesterday that Lady Trowbridge was caught kissing a certain footman_ , _in her own gardens, by the very ladies of the ton she had invited to tea that afternoon! It turns out that our suspicions on the night of her ball were true after all, and I am curiously proud of myself. It is one of life’s simple pleasures to be proved right, is it not?_

_Your friend,_

_Pen_

Colin couldn’t help the thrill he felt on the back of his neck reading her praise for his letters. She thought _he_ was talented. At something other than being charming or handsome. He didn’t really think that he was as bright as she made him out to be, but just the fact that she thought so made him feel ten feet tall.

‘ _I truly feel like I am by your side_ …’ Colin felt himself imagine what it would be like if Pen were with him, and just how enjoyable that would be. Her auburn curls floating in the breeze and wide blue eyes drinking in the scene around her…it was a pretty picture indeed.

He smiled and chuckled over the rest of her missive, his mood lighter than it had been in days.

As he laid back in his pillows that night, Colin recalled the night of the Trowbridge ball, when Penelope landed her barb and Colin looked at her sly smile in pleasant surprise. She met his eye, and just for a moment, something shifted as they gazed at each other. Colin turned away, suddenly self-conscious and surprised at his own reaction. He quickly spotted Marina on the dancefloor and turned his attention to her instead. But tonight, as he drifted into sleep, his thoughts didn’t leave Penelope, and her smile - sweet and kind but also tinged with mischief.

_November 18, 1813_

_Dearest Pen,_

_How are you keeping? You do not tell me nearly enough of your own welfare. Has your cousin returned from India to take over the estate?_

(Colin wanted to say more, to tell her to seek his family’s help. But he knew Pen would not take kindly to anything she perceived as pity, so he kept his counsel to himself. Besides, Anthony had not yet responded with news of his enquiries)

_I departed Malta a week past and am now ensconced in a charming hotel in Tangiers, Morocco. I picked the warmer country after all! The city rises up the hillside looking over the glittering bay, and overlooking it all is the Cape Lighthouse, an elegant and imposing structure, delicate and strong all at once. The houses are all painted white and blue and decorated in indigo tiles in the most intricate patterns. Tea houses dot every street and the laughter and chatter of the men and women as they congregate to drink their spiced tea is enchanting. I can scarcely believe I am in Africa, on an entirely different continent from the one I grew up in. I wish you could see it Pen, the bright colours of the women’s robes and the men’s turbans, the smell of spice wafting through the air, the crowded streets. You said you could imagine it through my letters, but I assure you I could never do these scenes justice._

_I am not surprised in the least that you were right about Lady Trowbridge. Indeed Pen, I have never known you to be wrong about anything before! Now I feel completely inadequate, for I am proved a fool too many times to count. Why just last evening, a street urchin got me to part with a handsome sum for a silly toy, which I soon realized was utterly defective. I only bought the item to please him, but I must say it was rather galling to be conned by a mere boy._

_Christmas is approaching and I will be in Casablanca. This will be my first Christmas away from my family, from England. With eight brothers and sisters shouting and singing over the table, I admit it will be strange to be alone. Not that there aren’t friends and fellow travelers with whom to spend the festival with, so I'm sure it will be exciting all the same._ _I hope your Christmas is everything it should be Pen, you deserve it._

_Yours,_

_Colin_


	3. Conjecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heir to the Featherington estate arrives, and Colin hears about it.   
> A lot of questions are asked, and some of them are answered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This Chapter finally has some dialogue, most of it being set in London.  
> 2\. Pen hasn't yet received Colin's last letter. The timeline may look a bit confusing, but that's only because this is 1813 and there was snail mail and weeks went by before your letter was received. Basically everything Colin reads is dated a few weeks earlier and vice-versa.   
> 3\. I'm not a 100% sure about the title and naming conventions of the Regency era but I'm sticking to what I think sounds right.   
> 4\. There is still no real plan for this fic...don't @me

November 5, 1813

“Let me inspect you,” ordered Lady Portia Featherington, as she keenly surveyed each of her three daughters from head to foot as they lined up in the foyer. Mr.Martinsdale was due to arrive within the hour and Lady Featherington was in no mood to be trifled with.

“You’re too pale!”, she snapped, before sharply pinching Penelope’s cheeks, reddening them instantly. Penelope cried out in pain, nursing her cheeks and feeling the imprint of her mother’s fingernails. She got the worst of it. Prudence was sent back to her room with orders to tighten her corset, but Phillipa, her mother’s favourite, managed to escape unscathed.

The sound of horses’ hooves echoed, and the family immediately straightened to attention. As the butler announced his arrival, a tall man with pale hair and eyes entered the house.

“Lady Featherington, it is an honour to make your acquaintance”, said Mr. Martinsdale, as he took off his hat and bowed politely before her.

“How very nice to meet you Mr. Martinsdale, we have been most anxious for your arrival,” she replied with an affected voice and an exaggerated smile. Penelope thought that if this man had any intelligence, he would see through her Mama instantly.

He smiled and nodded as she introduced her daughters to him one by one. When it came to her, Penelope smiled at the gentlemen politely and curtsied, noting that Mr. Martinsdale could not have been over forty years of age. He appeared tired and just slightly impatient to get over the formalities.

Penelope knew that her Mama was waiting to find out if Mr. Martinsdale would support her and her daughters in London during the social season until they were married. If Mr. Martinsdale was an honourable man, he would consider it his duty. If they were very lucky, he would let them remain in their manor in Grosvenor Square. But the late Lord Featherington had not just lost the family their money, but the dowries of his daughters. The girls’ chances of marriage were now slim to none, as Lady Featherington admitted to herself that not one of them were prize catches on the marriage mart.

So Mama had decided that whatever comes, Mr. Martinsdale must also marry one of her daughters. This way, he would have no choice but to support his wife’s family and all their futures could be secured. Penelope had to admit that her mother’s plan made sense, so she would extend her cooperation as best she could. In any event, she would not have to be the sacrificial lamb, so to speak. She knew her Mama pinned her hopes of marriage to the new Lord Featherington on her older sisters.

Over the next few days, Lord Featherington (as Mr. Martinsdale would now be known) settled into his new role, meeting with the estate’s solicitors, accountants and agents in succession. If he didn’t know the extent to which the Featheringtons had fallen before, he certainly did now. He had not yet spoken to Lady Featherington regarding her and her daughters’ position, however everyone knew it wouldn’t be long. As the gentleman opted to skip dinners with the family, instead preferring to catch up with friends and acquaintances at the club, even Penelope had not been able to observe him enough to guess his intentions.

* * *

_November 8, 1813_

_Dear brother,_

_Please confirm that you have not fallen into a ditch and broken your right arm, because nothing else can explain why you have not written to our mother for over a month past! I am glad you decided to venture out on your own and see the world, but seriously Colin, it is not that hard to keep your own family apprised about your welfare. You forget that I am the one trying to ease Mama’s distress, which is more keenly felt without the social season to distract her._

_You may have already heard, but I’m pleased to share that Daphne has announced that she is with child. I have never seen our sister so happy, and Simon too. Mother, of course, is ecstatic at the thought of welcoming her first grandchild and I must admit, I am really looking forward to being an uncle. We get to have all the fun and none of the responsibility. You, brother, I’m still responsible for, so I remind you to please convey your congratulations to your sister as soon as you can._

_Your request about the Featheringtons in your last letter was quite intriguing. While I am quite curious to know why your mind is on that particular family all the way across the Mediterranean, I do have good news to impart on this front._

_I do not know much about the Featheringtons’ financial situation, except that the late Lord F. gambled a great deal of their wealth away. I was however able to gather some information on Mr. Geoffrey Martinsdale, who arrived in England not three days ago. Sir Abbot, my Oxford chum is acquainted with the man, and he informs me that the new Lord F. is independently quite wealthy from his businesses in India, and has plans to invest his money to revive the estate. He is also in need of a wife apparently, now that he needs to produce heirs to secure the title. According to Abbot, he plans to marry one of the Featherington ladies, viewing it as the most practical solution for all parties concerned. I do not much care for the Featheringtons, except maybe Penelope, but it is a relief to hear that they will not be left wanting for anything. Indeed, Lady Portia must be screaming in joy at her luck._

_Hyacinth has asked me to remind you about her present; she now likes pink too, I’m told. She has also developed a keen (to the point of obsessive!) interest in languages and has been attempting to write a letter to you in Greek. I wasn’t sure how to break it to her that you are no longer in Greece, and in any event, you would not be able to translate it._

_Christmas will surely be different this year without you around. I do not say it much, but I do miss you sometimes. Take care brother!_

_Love,_

_Anthony_

Colin received Anthony’s letter well into December, and the news it brought made him wonder exactly what had transpired in London since it was written. Skimming past his brother’s scolding, he only paused to read thoroughly when Anthony mentioned Daphne’s pregnancy. Colin's heart swelled with joy. It was news like this that sometimes made him wish he was back home communing with his family. He was genuinely happy for his sister, knowing that her fondest dreams were coming true.

His grin faded however upon reaching his brother’s news on the Featheringtons.

_“he plans to marry one of the Featherington ladies…”_

_'Which one?’,_ thought Colin, cursing Anthony’s vagueness. Surely Mr. Martinsdale would marry the eldest daughter, it would be only proper? And what of Mr. Martinsdale himself? How old was he? Was he a gentleman? Would he be an honourable husband?

Colin felt that Anthony’s letter brought more questions than answers. What if he marries Pen? He knew that if she had to, Penelope might marry anyone to save her family. It was the sort of self-sacrificing thing she would do. but the thought of Pen marrying a man she did not love, as common as it was in their society, did no sit well with him. It also crossed Colin’s mind that if Pen got married, she would no longer be able to write to him. Society, and surely her husband, would frown upon it. Colin realised he would miss their interactions; he would miss _her_ , and the thought irked him.

* * *

_It has come to this Author’s attention that the mysterious new heir to the Featherington estate has descended upon our fair city. He is a mystery no more, dear Reader! Mr. Geoffrey Martinsdale, fair of hair and not more than forty years old, it is learned, is also a vastly successful diamond merchant in Bombay. As the new Lord Featherington, and yet unattached, I wonder – will he offer one of those precious gems to one of our own?_

_Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers, November 12, 1813_

Penelope had spent several months after her father’s death trying to figure out a way to use her Whistledown money to help her family. She also sought the advice of her family solicitor, the only other soul who knew of her alter ego. Unfortunately, one season’s earnings was hardly enough to bring the family out of ruin, although Pen very much wanted to use it to at least see to the family’s immediate needs. However, the question of how to transfer the money without revealing her secret was too big a challenge to overcome. Her solicitor immediately dismissed the idea of inventing a dead relative, or another anonymous donor, citing how easily Penelope’s account could be discovered by attempting such a weak subterfuge.

Her only other option was to tell her mother the truth about herself, a prospect she did not relish in the slightest. She did not trust her mother to keep her secret, and certainly did not want to face her wrath for all the insults directed at the Featheringtons by Whistledown. Worst of all, Mama would find out that she ruined the family for Colin's sake, and she would never forgive her. Instead, Penelope thought her best course was to wait and see what the new heir would decide. If he helped them, it was all well and good, and if he didn’t, Penelope would bite the bullet, so to speak, and tell her Mama about Whistledown.

One week after his arrival, Mr. Martinsdale requested a private meeting with Lady Featherington. The meeting didn’t last very long, and Lady Portia exited the study with a broad smile on her face - a smirk of victory. Penelope noticed and knew immediately that her mother’s plan had worked. Although, she wasn’t aware how she had managed it so quickly, unless of course Mr. Martinsdale had had the same idea.

A wave of relief washed over Penelope; however it had happened, she and her family would be protected for the near future at least, and likely remain right where they were. And she could continue to be Lady Whistledown! Penelope clapped her hands in delight and made haste to Bridgerton House to see Eloise and share her good mood (alas, she couldn’t share her good news).

* * *

_November 12 th, 1813_

_Dear Colin,_

_This is Hyacinth, by the way! You will find enclosed another letter I have written to you in Greek.. however, I could not finish it as it was becoming too cumbersome to translate, so I am continuing here in the Queen’s tongue. Please read the Greek letter first, and then continue here:_

_As I was saying, Greg refuses to accept that I have grown a whole inch taller over the last summer and is now even more put out because he hasn’t grown any. Even though he is older to me, I am certainly more grown up! Mama says that you and Daphne were the same when you were young. But now you are much taller and bigger than Daphne, although she is married and you are not. And she is to be a mother! So I guess she_ is _older than you brother, if not in years. What say you?_

 _Eloise never deigns to spend time any with me, even though Daphne no longer lives here and Francesca is always in her room or playing the piano. I’m her_ only _other sister and yet she ignores me! I suppose its because I can never be like Penelope, who somehow listens to Eloise’s rants for hours on end, although I have seen her roll her eyes a few times at our sister._

_I must go now, as Anthony is leaving and he has promised to dispatch my letter. Mama sends her love!_

_Love,_

_Hyacinth Bridgerton_

* * *

If she was not in her bedchamber or the drawing room with her Mama and sisters, Penelope could often be found tucked into her favourite chair in the library, reading. Their family did not have a vast collection, as no one seemed to have developed an appreciation for reading, but Penelope was never at a loss for a book, having regular access to the Bridgerton library as well. The Featherington library was merely a place of solitary refuge for Pen, where no one in her family would bother her. That was, until Mr. Martinsdale took to spending his afternoons there as well.

“Ms. Featherington, good afternoon.”, said Mr. Martinsdale upon seeing Penelope that first time in the library.

“Lord Featherington”, replied Penelope, as she stood and curtsied slightly.

“You needn’t bother with all the formalities, Ms. Featherington. I’ve lived most of my life without it just fine.”

Penelope gave a small smile, and nodded. “Alright, perhaps only when my Mama is around then.”

Mr. Martinsdale responded with his own nod of acquiescence, and unfolded the newspaper he had been holding. The two continued their reading in amiable silence, until the gentleman took his leave an hour later.

Several afternoons were spent just so, and gradually Penelope became more and more comfortable in his presence. Sometimes they conversed, either about the book she was reading or the news of the day. Mr. Martinsdale was genuinely surprised to learn that the youngest Featherington kept herself abreast of the affairs of Parliament and even the ongoing war.

“Why Ms.Featherington, I never knew a woman of your standing to be interested in the affairs of men”, he proclaimed.

“Men may be the ones conducting these affairs my Lord, but they affect me just as much as any other man in the country, I expect”, replied Penelope with such assertiveness that it surprised him.

“Are your sisters just as knowledgeable about politics as you?”

“Oh no, no! Prudence and Philippa are more gently bred I should say,” said Penelope wryly, eliciting a chuckle from Mr. Martinsdale.

They settled back into silence for awhile, Penelope returning to her novel and Mr. Martinsdale to his newspaper. Suddenly, Penelope felt his gaze upon her, and she could not tell how long it had been there. She looked up and met him with questioning eyes.

“Is something the matter, my Lord?”

“Not at all. I was just hoping to get your opinion on something.”

Intrigued, Penelope shut her book and sat up straighter.

“Pray what is it, my Lord?”

“I wonder, has your Mama told you of my intention to marry?”, he queried.

“No, she has not, but I suppose it is not a surprise,” she responded, to which he quirked a brow.

“I suppose that you wish to secure your title”, she explained further.

“Quite right. Yes, I am quite a practical man you see, and if something needs to be done, I try not to waste any time in doing it.”

Penelope wondered where this conversation was leading. It was almost inappropriate for him to be discussing such matters with her.

“And you seek my opinion on this, my Lord?”

“Oh yes. Well, you see, your mother suggested, and to be honest I had also come to the same idea, that if I were to find one of her daughters suitable, for marriage that is, it would be quite beneficial. This way, the Featherington estate shall continue in your family, and I would find a wife.”

Mr. Martinsdale stood up from his seat and made his way to the door, closing it just enough to leave a small gap.

“Your mother was quite adamant that one of your older sisters be joined with me, however I confess I do not know either one of them to really know who would be better suited,” he continued. “What is your opinion of the matter?”

“Well firstly, my Lord, I hope you will provide my sisters the opportunity to reject your advances, should they wish? It is not merely a matter of you picking a wife, they must pick their husband,” she stated. Penelope tried, but failed, from keeping a slight edge to her voice.

“Of course, I would never dream of forcing my hand on any woman!”, he exclaimed.

“That is good to know my Lord. I apologize for my tone, but they are my sisters after all,” said Penelope.

“So… what would you advise I do?”, he asked again.

“I cannot be the one to tell you which of my sisters may be more suited to you. I do not know anything about what suits you, my Lord. But, you said yourself that you do not know either of them. You can rectify that. You have separated yourself from my family since your arrival, it is a wonder we see you at all. There is much you can do, and it is not like there isn’t time. Prudence and Philippa will not spurn the chance to get to know you better.”

“And what about you?”

Penelope’s eyes widened, “What about me?”

“Won’t you like to be married? I do not know why your mother only mentioned your older sisters, but you are out in society as well, are you not?”

For a moment Penelope thought he was mocking her, wasn’t it obvious why her Mama had failed to thrust her into marriage with Mr.Martinsdale? But she had sensed his sincere tone, and so she thought carefully about her response.

“Yes, I am out in society, at the behest of my Mother. I myself wished to wait longer. I am only seventeen, and I do believe I am too young, and...and I am not really considered favourably when compared to the other ladies of the ton,” she wrung out, eyes cast down.

“I suppose you are young", he began, in a tone that suggested he didn't quite believe it. "However, please allow me to say that while I am not acquainted with the other ladies of the ton, I would venture that you are more agreeable than most of them. After all, there isn’t another lady I have met who is quite as sharp as you.”

Penelope blushed at the compliment, and smiled up at him.

“And you are an honourable man, my Lord. You are not expected to show my family such generosity, allowing us to stay in this house, securing our family's future, and yet you do so willingly. I am very grateful to you.”

The gentleman bowed his head lightly in a gesture of silent acknowledgment.

Penelope took her leave of him and went straight to her room. She needed to think about what just happened, and found to her consternation that she really had no idea. Had Mr. Martinsdale indicated his openness to the idea of courting her - Penelope Featherington? He was clearly not a romantic, he was not looking for love, just a wife. But he was kind, intelligent and decent. He was also twice Penelope’s age, although no one in the ton would think twice about that.

Penelope decided that no good could come of dwelling on this; she would pretend their conversation never happened. It would also do to read in the privacy of her room from now on.


End file.
